


There's No Love Like Your Love

by ereshai



Series: Happy Birthday To You [5]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Birthday, Established Relationship, M/M, Singing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-08
Updated: 2017-07-08
Packaged: 2018-11-29 15:27:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11443722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ereshai/pseuds/ereshai
Summary: It’s Phil’s birthday and he’s sitting in a bar.





	There's No Love Like Your Love

**Author's Note:**

> The title comes from Bryan Adams' "(Everything I Do) I Do It For You". I also used some of the lyrics in the fic itself.

It’s Phil’s birthday and he’s sitting in a bar.

This wouldn’t usually be a sad set of circumstances, but instead of celebrating with a few of his closest friends ( _and Clint_ , his heart, mind, and libido remind him forcefully), he’s rubbing elbows with Baby Face Johnny, a mob enforcer who goes by the nickname unironically. Since Johnny’s got enough muscles to answer any criticism and a temper to match, everyone else uses it unironically too. Baby Face Johnny has a perfectly ordinary face, but Phil isn’t going to say a word about it.

“Phil,” Johnny had said one day not long after Phil had infiltrated his organization, “Philly. Philly-Phil. Do you know how I got the name Baby Face?” He had continued without waiting for an answer. “My mother, God rest her soul, always said I had the face of an angel. Angel Face just sounds dumb, so I went with Baby Face, ‘cause Mama also always said I was her perfect baby boy. It is in honor of my sainted mother that I go by Baby Face. And every man around knows they better respect my mother or I’ll show them why the guys also call me Johnny the Hammer.” Then he had smirked and added, “The ladies do too, but for other reasons.”

Phil had nodded agreeably and that had been that; he had seen Johnny use his fists (thankfully Phil had never had the ‘other reasons’ for Johnny’s second nickname confirmed). It had been after that demonstration of Johnny’s powerful fists that Phil had been invited to call him by his first name instead of the nickname “because you’re a friend to me, Phil, and my friends call me by my name.”

Then Johnny had found out that today is his birthday and here they are, in Johnny’s favorite bar. It’s a dive, no question, but the owner has aspirations – there’s a limited food menu, Trivia Night every Friday, and a stage for live music that’s also used for karaoke. There’s someone up there screeching lyrics right now, though Phil can’t tell what song it’s supposed to be.

“Gail, a drink for my buddy Phil. It’s his birthday. Put all his drinks on my tab.” Johnny claps Phil on the shoulder and Phil carefully orders the most expensive whiskey the place has to offer, so as not to insult Johnny’s generosity. His next drink will be significantly cheaper, because he can’t have Johnny think he’s taking advantage of his generosity. Dealing with Johnny and his ilk can be exhausting. Later he’ll have to make it look like he’s taking a woman back to his apartment, because Johnny will almost certainly try to get him a ‘date’ for the evening if he doesn’t.

That sends his thoughts back to Clint, though thoughts of Clint are never far away. They know what working undercover can mean; they don’t ask each other for sexual fidelity on the job and they don’t promise it. They both still try to avoid those kind of situations whenever possible, and it’s worked for them so far.

By Phil’s count, he and Clint have spent more special occasions apart than together. This particular mission had kept Phil away for Clint’s birthday, as well. One day, if they survive, they would both be out of the field and they could spend all the birthdays and anniversaries and holidays together that they could want. But sometimes Phil had to wonder how much longer Clint would be willing to wait for that to happen.

The screeching ends and there is lovely, blessed silence. Johnny huffs and shakes his head. “There oughta be a test you gotta take before you can get up on that stage.”

Phil shrugs. “People got dreams, Johnny.”

“You’re a good guy, Phil. Gail, another drink for Phil.”

Gail sets another glass of whiskey on the bar in front of him and he nods his thanks.

“Hi,” someone says into the microphone. “This song is for the love of my life. Because everyone deserves to have a cheesy rock ballad sung about them at least once in their lives.”

The voice is achingly familiar, but it can’t be… There’s no way… Phil turns slowly. Up on the stage, Clint is standing there with a microphone in his hand. The music starts playing, their eyes meet, and Clint begins to sing.

“ _Look into my eyes, you will see_

_What you mean to me._

_Search your heart, search your soul_

_And when you find me there, you’ll search no more._ ”

Phil tears his gaze away – if he doesn’t stop staring, Johnny’s going to get suspicious.

“This guy isn’t too bad,” Johnny says, and Phil can only nod. He has to bite back a smile; the song is from that ridiculous Kevin Costner Robin Hood movie – of course Clint had chosen it.

Johnny turns to watch the stage, giving Phil an excuse to do the same. Clint, a consummate performer, is singing his heart out. Everyone in the bar has stopped to listen to him. Every so often, Clint catches Phil’s eye and smiles. He does the same to a few others, too.

“ _There’s no love like your love_

_And no other could give more love._

_There’s nowhere unless you’re there_

_All the time, all the way, yeah…_ ”

His body is expressive for all he’s standing in one spot, and as the music swells, Clint throws his arm out to one side.

“ _Yeah I would fight for you, I’d lie for you,_

_Walk the wire for you, yeah, I’d die for you._

_You know it’s true_

_Everything I do, oh, I do it for you._ ”

When the song is finally over, everybody claps until the last of the music fades away.

“I love you, baby,” Clint says. “Thanks everyone.”

Johnny turns back to the bar. “He was pretty good. Hey, Gail, get that guy and his girl over here. I want to buy them a drink.”

Phil suppresses a brief flare of panic. Was Clint here alone? Would he have thought to bring a date as cover? Clint was great at anticipating curveballs, but who could have anticipated that Johnny would take an interest?

It’s a few minutes before Clint comes over to the bar, escorted by the owner himself. Artie looks faintly troubled, but he leaves Clint with them without a word beyond, “This is Johnny. He’s the one who wanted to talk to you.”

“Hey man,” Clint says. He holds out his hand. “My name’s Clint.”

“Clint,” Johnny says as he shakes Clint’s hand. “Where’s your lady? I want to buy the both of you a drink.”

“Oh, thanks. I appreciate that. She’s not actually here.” Clint smiles ruefully. “She’s away for work. I had her on speaker phone so she could hear the song.”

Phil holds his breath. Will Johnny buy it?

“That’s too bad. She was okay with that, instead of you waiting until she could come along?”

Clint nods. “It’s her birthday. I always sing to her on her birthday. Even if we can’t be together.”

Johnny gives Clint a piercing look. “You,” he says, pointing at Clint, “are a good man. I hope your lady knows how lucky she is to have you.”

“I’m the lucky one,” Clint says. His eyes cut over to Phil, then away.

“Damn, that is what I like to see. Gail, a drink for my new friend Clint. Anything you want, you hear me? Money is no object.”

Clint orders his drink – the exact same one Phil has in his hand. “Hey, Phil likes that brand. Clint, this is my buddy Phil. It’s his birthday too. Phil, didn’t this guy sing like a frickin’ angel?”

Phil agrees and then lets Johnny take over the conversation as he tends to do. “You a professional singer, Clint? You should be, ‘cause you could make a living at it, easy.”

Clint laughs that off and Johnny continues in the same vein until Clint finishes his drink.

“I have to head out. Thanks for the drink, Johnny.” They shake hands again.

“Here, take this.” Johnny gives Clint his business card. “You ever want to break into the music biz, you call me. I know some people.”

“Whoa, thanks. I’ll definitely keep that in mind.” Clint slips the card into his pocket. “It was great to meet you, Johnny. You too, Phil.”

Phil waves at him and then Clint is gone. He swallows his disappointment. The fact that Clint had shown up at all was more of a gift than he had expected.

“A good guy,” Johnny says jovially. “Great singer.”

Phil’s phone buzzes. _Your place. ASAP._

“He sure is,” Phil says. “I’m gonna get going too, Johnny. Thanks for the drinks.”

“Hot date, huh?”

Phil smiles. “Let’s just say I got a present waiting for me at home.”


End file.
